Tourist sites in Egypt are deserted, despite deals and stability

An Egyptian camel rider waits for tourists as he passes by the Pyramids in Giza.

Associated Press

Summary

LUXOR, Egypt — The setting is already surreal: a warm breeze wafting off the Nile, a muezzin's call to prayer, and a full moon glinting against a giant stone visage of Ramses II, the most powerful pharaoh in Egyptian history.

LUXOR, Egypt — The setting is already surreal: a warm breeze wafting off the Nile, a muezzin's call to prayer, and a full moon glinting against a giant stone visage of Ramses II, the most powerful pharaoh in Egyptian history.

At the same moment, U.S. warplanes bomb neighboring Libya, and most tourists are dismissing Egypt as a no-fly zone.

But not Mary and Pierre Combal. After being on "pins and needles" about the status of the trip they'd booked before Egyptian protesters ousted President Hosni Mubarak from power in mid-February, the Scarsdale, N.Y., couple are here despite a U.S. State Department travel warning — and couldn't be happier about it.

"One of my colleagues told me, 'I hope you come back,' " says Mary Combal, one of a handful of awestruck spectators ambling among the Luxor Temple's 3,500-year-old pillars. "But I feel strongly about supporting Egypt, and this is a magical time to be here."

Two months after the revolution that ended Mubarak's 30-year stranglehold, Luxor and other Egyptian cities remain eerily bereft of the 15 million annual visitors who contribute 11 percent of its gross domestic product.

U.S. tour companies are resuming their operations here, several floating discounts of up to 50 percent, and last week the State Department eased its warning to remove a recommendation that Americans defer nonessential travel. Other countries have lifted advisories as well. But by many accounts, tourism is down by 75 percent to 90 percent — still better than February, when foreigners made a mass rush for the exits.

Freedom and food

During the peak winter season, 300 vessels typically jostle for space on the 125-mile stretch of the Nile between Luxor and Aswan. Now, the few ships back in service ply the river like apparitions, their deck chairs and hot tubs all but deserted.

Across the Nile from Luxor, a pair of visitors mug for a camera at a nearly empty entrance ramp to the mortuary temple of Queen Hatshepsut — evoking comparisons to 1997, the year terrorists killed 58 foreign tourists at this site and sparked a similar (but relatively short-lived) plunge in international arrivals.

In the serene southern town of Aswan, an ancient crossroads for African caravans, shopkeeper Hassan Eldesokey leans disconsolately against a window that reads "No Hassle Free; Hassle 5 Pounds Extra." He spent last month in front of a TV set, transfixed by the upheavals in Cairo and elsewhere, and isn't doing much bargaining these days.

No matter: Before the revolution, Eldesokey says, those who crossed government authority "were taken to a place behind the sun." Now, despite the fact that his official teaching salary of $100 a month must feed four children, "money is not everything," he insists, just before launching into a spirited pitch for a purchase of jasmine perfume.

"Freedom," he says, "is more important than food."

A horse-and-carriage driver in Edfu, another popular cruise stop along the Nile, isn't so sure. When asked whether he thinks life will be better post-Mubarak, Ahmed Mohamed frowns and points to his skin-and-bones steed, Rambo.

"With no tourists," he says, "we are desperate."

Signs of revolution

As the U.S. State Department's revised warning points out, the security situation here and in Egypt's Red Sea resorts is "calm," but it's also "unpredictable and subject to change."

In Luxor last week, the most identifiable signs of the revolution were a few broken windows at the municipal library and cultural center, and a small knot of placard-waving demonstrators objecting to salary inequities at a local bank.